Disclaimer: Pretty sure Syfy owns everything I care for, even the soul of Jaime Murray(who-I-wrote-a-fan-letter-to-and-have-yet-to-receive-a-response) …also, I'm not making any money from this story. Also, is "3…2…1" (of which I freely spoil) some sort of test for the Steampunk-y spinoff we've heard rumors about? Also,…just kidding, that's it, then?

A/N: Why do they keep bringing H.G. back? I then have to 1) drink wine and 2) write about it! Gah!

Stop-gap

Myka kept telling herself that the reason she'd asked the Regents for H.G.'s help on this particular case was because the disgraced agent was the only person who could. Myka kept having to tell herself this little exaggeration because she was trying to keep the real reason for asking buried deep within her psyche: she wanted—needed—to see the other woman.

That her request had been granted was of equal astonishment to the recently-returned agent. With a flick of his wrist, Artie returned H.G. to the command center. Or the semblance of Helena that Myka had become accustomed to. Their eyes met and Myka instantly had to turn away, blinking back tears of shock. When she was able to look back at the scene with composure intact, Myka became instantly aware of the glare emanating from Pete's direction.

This was going to be fun.

After explaining the case to all the players with surprise efficiency, Artie returned H.G. to her prison and wisely handed the control piece to Myka. If he'd handed it to Pete as he was first inclined then the device would surely have been "lost in checked baggage" along the way. Artie had no way of knowing that Myka would reactivate the sphere as soon as she was alone...

Once in the comforts of her own room feigning the necessity to pack, Myka Bering rested the globe on her nightstand and twisted. Helena was instantly before her.

The younger agent didn't even give the hologram time to react before the deluge of questions and judgments escaped her mouth. "Really? You slept with your Artie? And you thought that was okay? Oh no, you just did it to manipulate him. To have him under your spell—charms—just long enough to be twisted to your own bidding—"

"Right then. Just kindly let me know when you have finished," Helena responded with as much force as a hologram could possibly summon. The projected woman crossed her arms along her chest, scrunching the lavender scarf she wore so stylishly. H.G. took Myka throwing clothes haphazardly in a duffel as a sign that she could interrupt the rant. "Mr. Crowley and I were a very complicated matter best left to century past. Perhaps I did manipulate him for my own doing, yet you must understand that I recognized from very early on that his allegiance lied not with the Warehouse itself, but with the Crown." H.G. sighed. "I don't expect you to understand, Myka. It was a different place. A different time."

Myka stormed into her bathroom to collect her toiletries. She kept a liter plastic bag at the ready with mini shampoos and creams for impromptu flights such as this. Holo-Helena followed her in.

"But that's not really what this tiff is about, is it? I've become rather adept at recognizing tinges of jealously, Myka." The younger woman looked up from her packing into the sink mirror and easily picked up the reflection of H.G. standing right behind her. If Myka was being honest with herself, it physically hurt to be this close to the woman and not be able to touch her. "It's ignorant to believe that I didn't have a past live—past lovers—previous to you, darling."

"You've lost the right to 'darling' me." Both women stopped and just stared at one another, each looking straight ahead into the looking glass.

"Apologies on my part are beginning to sound hollow. I'm at a loss. I truly am." Helena fought the urge to reach out and touch the straightened locks that appeared so close. "What is it you want from me?"

"What I've always wanted from you, Helena." Myka turned to face the projection she often fantasized was real. "The truth."

"The truth is that you were much more than Crowley or any other man or woman I ever aligned myself with." H.G. paused, "Myka Bering, you are unique." The younger woman couldn't help but crack a sly smile at hearing Helena's confession. She quickly covered her mirth and made her way back the nightstand and looked long and hard at the image of the woman she once loved projected before her.

"I can't help but believe you when you say that." A slight flush covered the agent's cheeks as she continued, "I'm going to…turn you off now, for lack of a better phrase."

Helena took a step towards the woman before responding. "Myka, as long as you are the one 'turning me off' and you are the last sight I see as I disappear…I find myself able to cling to hope as I dared not hoped before." The older woman grasped her necklace as her companion turned the sphere closed.

On the flight to Ohio while boarding the plane, Myka had to stop the prying fingers of an eight-year old who mistook the device for a magic eight ball. Now, she held the orb close to her body and absently caressed the rounded sides as they lifted off. The magic within was hers alone.

She agreed with Pete to keep H.G. at bay for the time being to save on flight expenses (contrary to popular belief, holographic projections don't fly free). But she was more than willing to concur if it allowed her some quiet time to reflect on what was going on. Myka leaned back in her aisle seat and let her eyes slip closed as she remembered what Helena had said to her immediately prior to her deactivation. To hope as I dared not hoped before. Yes, it was a flair for the dramatic, but that was the cost of doing their particular type of business. Time travel, holograms…hope. Myka allowed a smile to creep back onto her face.

As she settled further into her seat, trying at the impossible of actually getting comfortable on a flight, she felt something brush the back of her hand. Her eyes instantly opened and went on the alert.

Pete cleared his throat. "Uh, if you want to take a nap I can play wi—hold—H.G. for you. I mean, if it will help you relax more or something."

Myka's alertness faded to a glare as she faced her partner and stated clearly so there would be no room for misunderstanding, "Pete, no touch-y!" She reclined into her seat and once again closed her eyes, holding the orb that much tighter…

A/N 2: Hmmm…this was supposed to be a one-part, one-shot but I have to re-watch the episode to finish this ficlet. It really shouldn't take more than a day or two to complete. Probably just one more bottle of wine…tops. :)